


I am not Lexa

by welcometothenewhigh



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clexa is endgame but it'll be a while, Denial, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometothenewhigh/pseuds/welcometothenewhigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has been banished from the grounders, due to her choice at the mountain. She is sent deep into the woods where she loses her sense of reality and when she's found again is convinced she is in heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the weirdest start to a story I've ever written and it's probably really horrible but I don't want to waste 2000 words I wrote, so here you go. Maybe someone will like it.  
> I have the smallest idea to continue, but that depends if its received well.

The ground is cold beneath her, making her believe she’s already in her grave. The Commander Spirit has been forced from her, leaving her body weak and more mortal than it’s ever been. She’d fallen off the pedestal with a hard thud, no everlasting story for her legacy to take or a name she was given to be remembered by. Just a once-was Commander.  
  
You may be wondering how? Why? When? Well it’s not a long story. It starts and ends with a single choice. Fight with Skaikru and take back all of their people from the mountain, ripping the life source of blood out from underneath their enemy. Or choose to save her people, thus leaving Skaikru and saving hundreds more of her own grounders in the time their joined forces could have even got into the mountain.  
  
The choice was obvious, you know her. She’s Heda of her people. Was Heda, and so she chose them. By default she was shamed by those same people for her choice to give up the fight. Taking down the mountain was a war wanted for 100 years by her people and she gave it up to the Skaikru, to save lives rather than lose them. Hundreds of grounders versus Skaikru’s 44. There was no regret, even as they dragged her through the streets of Polis. Her blood following their wake but she bit her tongue, she would not give them the satisfaction of her cries over the choice that saved the very people killing her.  
  
Even when they strung her up on a crucible, nailing her wrists and ankles to the sacred totem she did not cry. A fortnight of blood, pain, and excruciating silence; the no-longer-Commander was released from her misery. Carried far into the dark black night of the forest, farther than she’d ever been and abandoned again. That’s where she found herself cold and frozen, weaker than ever before and alone. She was banished. The night birds still sung around her, flying from tree to tree in bliss; as if she weren’t dying slowly beneath them.  
  
Months pass before a sickness catches up. Day after day she’d taken the right precautions, using factors of nature to salve her wounds and aid recovery. Only eating the correct berries she’d consumed as a child and taking the minimum amount of life from the forest, in the version of a fox or some rabbits. Never did she kill a big animal, for she hadn’t the weapon nor the right to take such a graceful life any longer. She herself had fallen from grace, and even the forest gave more than she could now. The forest provided life and shelter to the living animals, it replenished communities and families, both of which she did not have. So she had no right to scavenge for necessities as the forest was doing her a favor by providing her the tiny lives she takes to survive.  
  
This sickness could not be cured by the forest if it even wanted to help prolong her life. This was inside her, eating away at her energy and her will to continue. One particular morning, on her two hundred and thirtieth day alone and without knowledge of her location, she found bruises on her abdomen. A bad sign, an impending omen of death and she knew there was no use in fighting it any longer. She set up a permanent campsite and built her own grave. As she survived, the following days filled her body with more lingering, random bruises. Dark in color, purple and black and red like the blood swimming under the surface. The pain became unbearable and she’d begun medicating herself on what she knew to be medicinal mushrooms found nearby in order to suppress her ability to physically feel.  
  
Instead her mind ran rampant with nightmares during the day. The ghosts of her past haunting her. Sometimes Anya, sometimes Gustus. Mostly the faceless people she had murdered during her reign as Heda, and their thundering loud voices were her only company. When none of them were demanding her death, there was only one who stayed. Clarke. Her sweet voice echoed in her head every time she had a moment of silence. The pain filled, betrayed, blue eyes were all she saw when she closed her own. She often thought about Clarke and each memory and wish brought her heart more emptiness and grief. Filling the broken void in her chest with more aloneness than she’d ever known.  
  
She once thought she did not regret leaving her, she thought she had done it for her people and could not have made any other choice. Though now she knows she does. Regret is written into her bones, drowning in her blood and cutting through her skin to get out. She is sure her sickness is that. Her very own hatred for her choice is killing her slowly. Another new week passes and her bruises are all black, there is no more color to remind her of the life she once lived. The skies are reminiscent of the only thing she knows, the blue of the ocean and the blue of her soul. Clarke is the blue in everything she sees.  
  
Anya kicks her down when she is weak and Gustus pats her on the back with all his might, not caring for her pain. Neither do. They both blame her for their deaths. They blame her for all the skeletons and corpses in the forest and she knows they are right. In one way or another their lost life trails all the way back to a command she gave or a choice she made. There is no escape from her hell. The nights she does not give in to the mushrooms, the silence still feels like too much. Thus her own natural delusions of the dead innocents send her running for the hills, chasing her deep into the night until she finds solace in the emptiness that consumes her.  
  
The existence she continues is agonizingly painful, the tormenting thoughts and the hallucinogens rip apart her sanity and she does not even know herself anymore. Every meal she’s come upon she has let go, too caught up in the entrancement of seeing another living being to end it. Her voice has gone unused and she is not sure it still works, not that she would ever speak again. For there were no words she deserved to say and surely the sound of herself, of her very own body, was utterly shameful anyway.  
  
On her 305th day of solitude, she falls asleep into the night with nothing but bruises on her stomach, regret burning her alive and no longer any will to continue; knowing they’re her final hours. She attempts to speak for the first time, but no sound comes out. A mouthed ‘Clarke’ falls into the air, rising up and up higher into the sky to go back to where it came from, and she closes her eyes to welcome death.  
  
A hum melodizes in her ears. It is distant and soft, like being underwater and hearing the birds sing around her. It’s all she knows. The constant echo of a tune she does not recognize fills her head. Ridding her of the evil thoughts she’d gotten so used to. She thought if this blissful hum is her heaven she’d take it. The kindness she felt the voice emanating radiated into her, basking her body further into the warmth she felt surrounding it.  
  
There were stories of afterlife she used to hear about. It was described as the place you were before birth. They would ask, ‘what do you remember before?’ and the answer is nothing. Pure empty nothingness and afterlife was going back to that. The before. She does not remember such a hum in her before, she remembered a deep, black, cold vastness. This she preferred much more over her before and she did not mind being selfish in her heaven. It was hers after all, she was no longer anybody’s leader or lover or friend or enemy.  
  
After what she guessed could have been 1000 years the hum has gone, replaced by eerie silence. She fears she’s been sent back to her before, but if she fears then she knows she has not. Any coherent feeling must mean she is still in her heaven, because the before had nothing like fear or hums. So she waits. She desperately hopes for the hum to come back and bring its kindness and warmth with it. She can only imagine where it has gone and where it has left her.  
  
The humming returned, louder and softer at the same time. Now it was closer than before, no longer making her think she is underwater. If she concentrated she even felt wind on her neck, or maybe it was the breath of the hum, breathing life back into her. Returning what she’d wasted so foolishly by living for those who killed her in return. What a gift if she was being given another chance. She would use this time to give back to those she’d hurt, Clarke especially.  
  
She would not speak nor argue nor live beside her. Her second life would be spent in making sure Clarke was nothing but content and well aided in her journey. Therefor she must not be there. She must let her live a good life. She would not mind going back to the misery she had known before her heaven if it would mean Clarke was happy. Her resolve strengthened to be a ghost, blending in among the shadows if she were given back to the land of the living.  
  
The hum grew quiet and its wind stopped blowing. It was now replaced by cries. Long, wailing, sorrowful cries and she ached to fix its sudden sadness. If only she had the ability to hand over her own peace to the hum. Surely it would go back to its joyful tunes and leave the crying to her. Using all the strength she’d gathered in her time in heaven she tried her best to open her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she even still had her body, she may just be a soul, but she opened something and could finally see the hum.  
  
It belonged to an angel! An angel with bright hair, sat over her and crying those heart wrenching wails. She knew she must take away its sadness the best she could. Eat it all up until it became her and the hum became more. Drawing forth her arm, or what she thought was hers, maybe she inhabited a new body in her heaven, and she touched the angel. She dragged whosever finger’s she had through its bright hair, urging the angel to shed its cloak and give it to her instead.  
  
The bright haired being looked up to her, their cries getting louder and she think she must have hurt the angel rather than fix. How could she be so destructive even in her heaven? Even in the one place she is supposed to be nothingness she finds a way to burn. She pulls back the fingers that have caused the angel pain, balling them up until she can no longer look at the culprits and she closes the eyes she sees out of once more. In her attempt to stop from hurting the angel more she must destroy what she is.  
  
But then, a voice, a word. A demand breaks through her built up wall.  
  
“Lexa!”  
  
Is this angel talking to her? Do they recognize her soul for the body it inhabited? Maybe her soul is Lexa, no matter where she is or whom.  
  
“Look at me again please Lexa. Open your eyes please my love.”  
  
Her angel cries to her again, she feels herself wanting to oblige but who is her love? Is Lexa her love? She is not Lexa, that is who her soul was but she is not. She is a being who has lost all she was. She will not hurt the angel by making them think she is who they want to open their eyes. Squeezing them tighter she makes herself small and untouchable. The angel must understand.  
  
“Lexa I know you can hear me, please fucking look at me.”  
  
They beg and plead of her but she cannot understand why they think she is Lexa. She is not! She has not been in far too long. In 1000 years she has not been. Why does the angel not know? Refusing to answer, she buries herself deep into the dark warmth. Eventually the angel ceases her begging and she hopes they have accepted she is not Lexa. She isn’t and won’t be who they need her to be.  
  
The hum does not return for a 1000 more years. Silence envelopes her and she knows now she is in the before. There are no fears or wishes and she does not find herself missing the angel’s hum any longer. She knows if she were to hear it once more, it would mean the angel has again forgotten she is not Lexa. She does not want that for the angel, instead she welcomes the before, much like she welcomed death so long ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is lost, found, lost again and brought back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, here it is. It's probably a little confusing, but honestly this concept fucks with my head and I am not sure if I did it justice in the way I've portrayed it.  
> This all happens in one day and into the night.  
> At some point I switch from Lexa referring to herself in 'the' back to 'her'  
> Abby is #teamLexa  
> Criticize all you'd like, feedback is welcome.

How long must go by before she can forgive herself for hurting the angel? She cannot understand why her heaven allowed her to still be dangerous. In her body she once inhabited she’d been just shy of a monster. A true enemy to anybody who showed their face. It was supposed to be different now, she was not supposed to be able to hurt anyone. Especially angels! It is absurd. She argues with herself for many centuries. Taking turns battling each side and still by another past century she can only fault herself.  
  
By the time she is sure she’s got the answer, she realizes she hasn’t heard the hum in far too long. Not 1000 years, but maybe half. Long enough to know it is not right and she must find the hum again. Her will to find the angel that sings the hum may just surpass her entrapment in the before, because without her music she does not think she can truly survive in this nothingness. She waits again for her angel to return, she waits and waits and waits. The before is longer than her heaven was. It is too long. Far too long and she does not want to wait any more! She will not wait 1000 more centuries! She will find the angel and hear her hum.  
  
Urging the eyes she’s using she begs them to open. Knowing the angel is not there is enough to make them work and she is thankful. She sees too much at once, closing the eyes and blinking them sparingly. Soon she sees her before for what it is. Not much. The before is but a single room, white and foreign and ugly. It is bright, like the angel’s hair which is a comfort but it is everywhere. It surrounds the body she uses in glowing light, the hands are long and skinny and they are not what she knows but they work. The feet rest on the floor as she moves the legs. It appears the body she is using is accustomed to her, so she moves.  
  
Standing is the harder part. Swinging the body into an upright position was no challenge, but she was not sure how it stood. She thinks to how her old body moved, the one the angel thought she was. It seems to get the hint, she stands now. The eyes see the door and the feet follow, she controls it all with ease now. Outside seems to be even more white. Long, walls of white and they go both ways. Which white way is whiter? She will follow the brighter light. Deciding it is left, the feet walk the never-ending pathway, the hands tracing the walls to lead her own way back.  
  
It does not end for a long time, she almost went back the other way but thought better than to not trust the white. The before does not seem to be a nice place, but she did not expect anything nice for herself anyway. That is why the hum is so important and why she will not fail this mission. Finding the hum and returning to her slumber would be the only outcome and if she failed her quest who’s to say she would not be punished and sent deeper into her before? Surely she did not want to go deeper into the cold, empty vastness and even further from the angel’s hum! So there was no other option than to find her angel. It would be done.  
  
The whiter of the white walls seem to end, for she sees the whitest light there is! It’s there now and the feet follow faster, leading her out of the endless walls of white and into the brightness of what she knows must be her heaven! Once more she will hear the hum. Upon entering the newfound white, it changes. More colors than she has known in thousands of years fill the eyes now. Even brighter than her before, but not yet brighter than the angel. Her search will be fruitful if she begins now, so she wills the feet to move forth.  
  
There are angels everywhere now. They seem to see her but not pay any attention to her quest. How can she find the angel she needs if the rest of the angels do not help? There is no hum for her to follow or pathway, she must rely on her need. It will prove well once she finds her angel and hears the hum once more. Oh how she can hear the blessed tune, its joyous notes and everlasting kindness. It was a gift she was given and maybe she does not deserve the hum, but she does want it and will find it. If the angel does not want to give her the hum again then perhaps the before will welcome her back and she will no longer miss the angel and her music. It is a perilous task she is undertaking as penance, but this angel is worth it to restore her heaven.  
  
The colors of her heaven are plenty and she is very intrigued by their deepness, but still she looks mostly for the bright angel. For she is the lightest color of blues and whites. The other angels do not look like her, making it easy to continue her search. It is so long though. Where could her angel have gone if she is not singing the hum in her heaven? Does the angel sing in other heavens? That does not seem fair. There are many angels here to sing, why can’t she have an angel to herself? She allows herself the selfishness again, knowing in her heaven it is okay.  
  
The voices of the angels are all around her but none try to speak to the body she is using and she is grateful they let her pass without question. She does not think she can make sounds any longer. Surely the ability desecrated over so many hundreds of years. It is up to her to let the angel know she needs her once she finds her. A long time passes as she walks around her heaven, the smells of boar and deer cooking above a fire pit perforate her nose and she is surprised to find herself wanting some. In heaven, isn’t there supposed to be no urges, no hunger, and no pain? What kind of a heaven is so much like the life she once lived?  
  
Maybe… perhaps that is what heaven is! It is the life she lived, where now she is no longer a threat. The angels do not seem to fear her or even see her, perhaps her heaven is her finally living among those who don’t see her for what she was. A monster in human flesh, hidden behind alluring looks and a feminine frame. The monster she is under the skin is stained in bloodied warfare and hate, in unparalleled strength and dauntless courage. Her true self is the devil, but here she does not have to be. She lives among the angels here, and for the first time she feels peaceful. Even in her hasty search for the blonde one, she knows it is okay.  
  
“Lexa!” A voice calls to the body she is, to the soul she was. She turns, because if the angels do not know who she is then she will have to let them know. A dark haired angel approaches her with a huge grin on her face and palpable excitement in her eyes as she gets closer. She is confused by the angel’s ability to see her. No other angel here seemed to see her, but maybe the angels were told to avoid her as she is the evil they are not. It would be in their best interest to avoid her path. If she was able to hurt her own angel in her heaven surely she could hurt the others. It made her shrink into the body, to show she is no threat to the angel that speaks to her. “Lexa? Are you okay? When did you wake up?” The angel asks.  
  
She stares at the angel, tilting her head slightly to let the angel know she is wrong. She is not Lexa and cannot answer anyway to tell her. When the before opened its doors and allowed her to enter heaven, she could not tell. It felt like a long time ago now, but the sky was still and the landscape did not change as if it had been many years. So maybe it had been recently, but she could not tell this to the angel. Instead she came closer, dropping the body she uses onto its knees as she looked up. The angel jumped in her spot, looking down at her with wide eyes, the color of the night sky and she looked around to the other angels urgently.  
  
She did not move the eyes off the angel, instead she dropped herself lower, letting her arms and head bow on the ground. This angel must realize she will not hurt them any longer. “Get up, get up Lexa. I—I don’t know what you’re doing but stop it!” The angel told her gruffly, grabbing the body by its shoulders until she stood in front again. She was taller than the angel and she felt like a monster. Dropping to one knee this time she hoped the angel would understand all she wanted to do was convey her loyalty. “What the…” The angel said again.  
  
After what didn’t seem like long the rest of the angels had begun crowding them and she felt overwhelmed by her need to find her angel now. She stood tall, looking deeply into the eyes of every angel and she finally turned back to the dark haired angel. She pointed to the sky, then to her hair, back to the sky and to her eyes. Trying her best to describe the angel she wants, the angel she needs. The dark haired angel looked around to the others with still wide eyes, until finally they parted. Through the space between the divided angels, was her angel! Looking at her with eyes the color of every sky and the brightest hair she’d ever seen.  
  
She made the lips smile, knowing it was a natural reaction to seeing this beautiful angel up close. Quickly she walked to the angel, using the body’s speed to get there in less than five long strides. As she stood in front of her, she noticed how small her angel was. She was shorter than the body she uses and she could not help the monstrous feeling that bubbled inside her. The angel stared at her with her blue eyes, becoming lighter with tears inside them and the angel fell to her knees in front of her as she cried. She opened the eyes wide, disbelieving that this angel was showing her fealty... Absurd! This will not be how her heaven is! She takes the angel as gently as she can by her shoulders, pulling her back up to stand and instead took her place kneeling. She bowed her head and waited.  
  
“What is she doing?” Her angel asked and she knew it was her by the sound of her deep voice. She was reminded of the hum suddenly and she looked up to the angel with a big smile, extending the hand for her to take. In a second the angel had looked back at her, despite the rustle of other angels scurrying about. Her angel took the hand and squeezed it to her chest. “Lexa what is happening to you? Talk to me please.” She did not understand yet again WHY these angels called her by the name of Lexa. Lexa—what a short name, the perfect name for a devil. Short enough to scream into the air as her blade cuts through their body, ending their life.  
  
Shaking her head violently and pleading with her eyes she squeezes the angel’s hand in return. She stands now, leading the angel back to her before. She hopes once they enter, it will turn back into the little room of her heaven with just her and the angel and her hum. The angel allows her to lead her and she revels in her trust, smiling back to the angel as she looks over the shoulder to make sure she is there and this is not a dream.  
  
What a waste it would be if this were all a dream in her before, and she was still stuck in there. How could any of this happen in her before though? It couldn’t, the before was nothing. This is her heaven, so maybe she can’t bring the angel back with her… Maybe she has to live here with the angel instead. She stops the feet in their tracks and the angel bumps into the back of the body. Whipping around to check on her she finds the angel looking confused but still clinging to the hand. “What is it Lexa?” The angel asks her and she feels exasperated trying to get them to understand she is not Lexa.  
  
Rather than later, she will get it over with now. Abandoning her mission to return to the before with the angel, she accepts this is what her heaven is now. Here with the angel, and now the angel must understand she is not who they all think she is. She releases the angel’s hand, pursing the lips to think of a way to tell her. Pointing now to her chest, she shakes her head once more. The angel tilts her head. “What about you Lexa?” She widens her eyes and points to the angel now, to her throat where that name escaped from and she points back to herself, shaking her head the whole time as to say _no, not Lexa._  
  
“What? I don’t—I don’t understand Lexa. Why won’t you talk to me?” She groans tiredly and is shocked by the sound emitted from the body. She tries again, making another noise. Now she walks a few paces around testing out her ability to make sounds by humming; she begins to hum the angel’s tune, as it is all she knows. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Her angel screams to her, grabbing the shoulders roughly and looking at her with crying blue eyes. She gasps, shoving aside her newfound ability to communicate. She takes her angel’s face in her hands, wiping the falling tears as they come. “Come with me Lexa.” Her angels leads her fast away from the doors to the before.  
  
They walk quickly through heaven, past tents and fires and other confused angels before they entered another hall of whiteness. She rips the hand back from the angel, terrified she is bringing her back to another before and is going to leave her for 1000 more years. Falling to the knees she begs with the eyes for her angel to reconsider. She shakes her head and can’t help the water that falls from the eyes, she does not want to go back to nothingness. Now that she has felt the warmth once more of her angel she can’t bear the thought of the before any longer. She will gladly drown in selfishness for her angel’s company.  
  
“No no. Please don’t cry. I just need my mom to look at you, something’s wrong Lexa and I’m starting to get you don’t understand that but just trust me. I will not hurt you.” Her angel tells her seriously, taking the hands in her own and squeezing them tightly. “Trust me, can you do that?” She finds herself nodding, wiping away the water that fell from the eyes—tears—and she follows once more. Her angel leads her to a dark metal room that is loud with beeps and the groans of fallen angels who lay on beds.  
  
“Mom? Lexa woke up, but… something’s really wrong. She—she doesn’t know—I don’t know. We know the grounders sacrificed her spirit and she has all those scars in her wrists and ankles but what else did they do?! She doesn’t know who she is! I don’t understand. Please help her.” The angel cries to another angel, a medium colored brunette with strong hands and studious eyes.  
  
“What do you mean she doesn’t know who she is? Can you tell me your name?” The nurse angel asks her as she holds the face, shining a light into the eyes. “Clarke, her pupils aren’t dilating. They’re stuck in full form. I’m going to take some blood.” Clarke? This angel is CLARKE?! She gasps loudly as she looks at the blonde angel once more. She has hurt this angel far more than she could ever have dreamed if she is Clarke. The woman she abandoned in her lifetime. Regret burns her alive once more and she begins to cry out of the eyes harder than she has in centuries.  
  
It shakes in her chest and rattles her bones with deep aching pain and the memory of Clarke’s hurt eyes are so plain to see now in the angel. Clarke is her angel, of course she is. Even in death, in her heaven, Clarke is her god and her protector when she is everything bad. The helper angel pulls out a needle and she approaches her once more, but the falling tears are making the eyes blur and she cannot see her Clarke. She begins to scream out of fear and stands to stop this nurse from taking her blood. “Lexa stop! We want to help you!” Her Clarke tries to tell her, grabbing for the hands with more strength than it seemed like she had.  
  
Her screams stopped as soon as Clarke took the hands and she looked at the blonde angel with as much sorry and regret she could gather. “Calm down my love.” Clarke took her by the jaw she had and looked into the eyes deeply. “You are Lexa. You’re confused but this is you. I need you to come back to me. How can I justify my anger towards you if you don’t know what you’ve done? You left me, Lexa! You abandoned me and now you’ve abandoned yourself. It’s time to come back, so you’re going to trust me and let us help. Got it?” She closed _her_ eyes tightly, trying to believe her angel, Clarke.  
  
Clarke would not lie to her, that she is sure of no matter who she is. She nods the—her head, still squeezing her eyes tight so she does not see the needle the helper nurse is threatening to stab her with. “Look at me, Lexa. Don’t go anywhere.” Her angel asks her in a soft voice, making her think of the hum again. She wants to hear it now more than anything. Reaching for the angel, Clarke sits in the bed beside her looking at her as she nods to the other angel to continue. “I won’t go anywhere either.”  
  
The needle slides into her skin with ease, not even a pinch of pain and she is grateful she has not yet felt pain in her heaven even if she has caused it.  
  
“Clarke, we have a problem. Her blood is very thin and dark, she’s sick with something. I won’t know what until we do more tests but… it doesn’t look good honey.” The angel tells her Clarke and she is pained to notice Clarke is already crying once more. She takes her small face in her hands and wipes the tears, shaking her head. Looking to the angel she stands and growls, showing her she must stop hurting Clarke with her words. The blood running in her veins is fine, there is no sickness inside her any longer and she will prove it to them.  
  
She looks to her angel, pressing a hand to gently touch Clarke’s cheek before she then ran out of the dark metal colored room. There were voices behind her as she ran but she did not stop until she was outside in her heaven once more. The wind from the trees rustled in her hair, which she noticed now was very long and dark brown, with many waves in it. It blew in the wind and she could not help but be discouraged by its volume.  
  
Twisting her hair into many braids that her fingers remembered she breathed a sigh of relief as it pulled off her neck. Taking off in a run again she passed many angels who yelled to her to stop but she did not listen. Her feet carried her deep into the woods and she found paths she couldn’t consciously remember knowing but they lead her to an open clearing. Her heaven was so beautiful.  
  
It felt familiar under her feet, the soft crunch of the forest holding her weight up without breaking irreparably below her. The scent of pine and salt from a faraway ocean guided her deeper. She was out here to prove she was not sick and that is what she would do. The only thing she knew she was capable of was pain and drawing blood, so she hunted. Tracking the foot marks of animals she surreptitiously followed them to their home in the forest.  
  
Coming upon a den, there were low noises inside and she felt her heart race with adrenaline at the thought of bringing something back for all of the angels. If she could not get them to understand who she is now, she would have to show them her change. She felt powerful as she came closer, the monster inside her clawing at her skin to escape and fight. A louder growl sounded behind her and she turned happily to find a silver, double-nosed wolf snarling at her.  
  
She snarled in return, leaning lower into a crouch preparing herself for the kill. The wolf inched closer, baring his teeth and she did the same. In a second the wolf pounced on her, shoving her back to the ground as it attempted to eat her alive. It took one bite on her neck and the sight of her own blood on his mouth for her to lose her last bit of patience. A growled reverberated deep from her chest and her hands found their way around the animal’s throat, squeezing with every ounce of strength in her body until its whimpers filled the air and finally silence.  
  
The silver wolf fell off her onto the forest floor, blood pooling from its mouth. A little bit of hers and most of their own. Her instincts kicked in again when she heard more growls and snarls around her. Climbing to her feet she crouched again, eyeing four move silver wolves that emerged from the cave. An evil, devilish, bloody smile transformed her face and the monster inside her lunged. After a violent, roaring fight between her and the pack she was left covered in thick, hot blood and her mouth dripped red from where she bit into the jugulars of the rabid animals.  
  
She stood for a long time between the bodies of the dead wolves, long after dark she was still standing. She knew now something wasn’t right in her heaven. So far her heaven has been much too much like the life she lived, but still her mind told her she was dead. How though? How did she die? Her memory served fruitless, as the 1000s of years wiped them away. All she knew was her abandonment of Clarke, the burning regret she felt for her and that her angel too was Clarke. ALL she knew was Clarke! Surely this is not only her heaven any longer. It might even be hell, with a whole bunch of angels, or maybe they are devils in disguise like she is.  
  
More time passed, the moon grew brighter and her skin grew colder. The blood had dried long ago but still she waits for a sign to return. She had vowed to leave Clarke be, to live among her but not with her. Any way to preserve the girl she would try her best. She slowly began her march back, having tied the pack of dead wolves together by twisting vines to their feet. Her and the train of wolves crunched through the forest one foot after the other.  
  
She was not convinced she was going the right way back to Clarke until she smelled the scent of heavy smoke in the air and saw a glow past the walls in the distance. Getting closer she became unsure how her Clarke and the other angels would react to her trying to help feed them and prolong their lives. Obviously angels eat food and live much like mortals she knew once, so they must be grateful for anything more. As she finally approached the gates, an angel standing guard called down to her.  
  
“Where have you been? Clarke has been on a tear trying to find you. What are those?” He asks his questions in vain, for she stares emptily at him until he simply opens the gates. Once opened she carries her victims inside, leaving them by a big fire and nodding to the angels who stood to help. She continues on, despite the many voices of angels asking her where she went. Finding Clarke does not take long, as she traces her steps back to the big white hall and down into the dark metal room.  
  
Her beautiful angel with bright hair sits on the bed with the nurse from earlier looking over many documents. She hears sniffles in her voice as her angel talks.  
  
“So you’re saying while she was surviving out in the forest she found psychoactive mushrooms… then ate so many the Psilocybin not only diluted her blood but is now being produced by her blood? As in she’s generating the very ingredient making her so weird? So there’s nothing we can do?”  
  
“I think so, yes. She is constantly in a trance. I would not be surprised if she does not even know where we are. If we’re on earth or in space or at the bottom of the ocean. Her mind is riddled with this drug and it’s much too late to help her, Clarke.”  
  
“No… I fucking refuse to believe she’s gone crazy mom! She’s the Commander!”  
  
“Clarke she is not the Commander. Her people strung her up on a damn cross and bled her almost to death so her spirit would find a new vessel. What she became out in that forest… we don’t know, but she isn’t crazy. The way she is still gentle to you proves that! Don’t you see? She simply needs guidance now, she is in the dark and you have to help her.”  
  
“I will help her, I will. I just don’t understand…”  
  
“I know sweetheart. It’s very, very strange. We all expected Lexa to have been killed by her people when we heard there was a new Commander. Nobody knows she is alive, Clarke. This is good for us. We have the old Commander and no matter who she thinks she is, I know she will stay here for you.”  
  
That final sentence prompted her to announce her presence finally. She sat down onto the bed behind the two angels and they both jumped high off of it. A gasp escaped both of their lips as they turned and saw her. Her angel immediately began crying from her blue eyes once more and she put a soft hand to her cheek much like earlier. Her Clarke grabbed the hand on her face as she studied her.  
“What the hell? Are you hurt? Mom she’s covered—”  
  
“I can see that. Lexa lay down, I need to find your wounds—” She quieted the nurse by growling and standing tall to show she was fine. “Where is that blood from then?” Just then the dark haired angel whom first spoke to her appeared in the doorway.  
  
“Guys, Lexa—she brought back a bunch of dead wolves and we’re cooking them up now. Everyone’s waking up to have some, it’s amazing.”  
  
“I’ll be right there Raven.” The nurse told the brunette, glancing back to her with wide eyes. “Clarke, I’ll get some food for you both but please keep her here. Clean her up and check for wounds.” She told Clarke who nodded, still keeping her eyes on her.  
  
Once they were alone she looked to Clarke with a big smile, still bloodied.  
  
“Lexa… can I clean you up? You won’t hurt me right?” Then her smile dropped and she opened her eyes wide. Why would her angel think she’d hurt her? She looked down at herself, seeing crimson red all over her stained and dried from ending the lives of so many wolves. She shook her head feverishly and got off the bed, dropping to her knees to show Clarke she would never.  
  
“I believe you but you’ve got to stop bowing to us. Please stand up. Come over here. Please take off your shirt and everything, then put this on okay?” She squinted her eyes, unsure if she should undress before her angel but complied anyway. After stripping herself of the stained clothes she sat onto the bed, pulling a cloth shirt over her as asked. Clarke turned back to her with wet towels in her hands.  
  
She let Clarke gently wipe away the blood, watching her every movement. Clarke began to hum then and she gasped loudly. Finally! The hum! “What?” Clarke asked her quickly and she shook her head, putting her fingers on her throat to ask to her continue. Clarke just smiled faintly and hummed again, that same perfect tune that she’d heard in her heaven so long ago. A few minutes passed between them before her angel stopped wiping and looked at her sadly.  
  
“You know what hurts the most about you being all tranced up now? You don’t even know what you did and what you gave up. Me, Lexa. You ruined our chance to love each other properly. You won’t speak to me and I’m scared everything’s ruined. I have to find someone else now, don’t you understand how much I don’t want to? Can’t you see in my eyes what I want to feel for you? I see it in yours. You still care about me, but you don’t even know what you’re doing here I bet.” Clarke cried now, shoving away the hand she offered. “Don’t touch me! You don’t get to touch me!”  
  
She recoiled her hand as if she’d been burned and she let her angel’s words sink into her. She had ruined their chance to love each other… but she is sure she loves her Clarke, so how can that be? Deciding once and for all to tell her angel what she knew, she spoke.  
  
“Clarke but I do love you. I love you so much I tried to make myself forget, I made myself die so I wouldn’t feel the pain of my betrayal. I hurt you more than you’ve ever deserved and I am the devil. You are an angel. You are all angels in my death. In this heaven I can still cause pain but I will not any longer. We could love each other even though I am dead and you are not.” Clarke’s jaw dropped at her words and she waited for her to speak. She still tasted regret on her tongue, sour and bloody and unforgiving.  
  
“You… you think you’re dead? You think you killed yourself by eating all of those mushrooms? You’re not fucking dead Lexa! You’re alive. You and me, we’re alive and we’re living on the ground. On Earth, we’re not in your heaven." Clarke groaned tiredly. "Do you know what you did to me?” She asked her in a tiny, pleading voice.  
  
“I betrayed you. I deserve to die for it now if you are telling me I am not already dead.” Then she stood, looking for anything to end her fight and she smiled triumphantly as she saw a sharp, metal blade. She reached for the blade and began dragging it across her throat, spewing blood and reveling in the searing pain. She is alive after all. There is no pain in heaven, so this is not her heaven. It is not where she deserves to still be. She will return to the before.  
  
“NO! NO LEXA!” Clarke screamed as she ripped the blade from her hands and started pressing a towel to her neck. She struggled to get Clarke off of her but the blonde girl seemed to overpower her easily. “MOM!” She was screaming over and over. Finally the nurse came running into the room, throwing the plates of wolf meat to the floor as she saw the situation.  
  
“What did she do?!” The brunette asked and frantically began looking for something. She watched on as her Clarke and this woman fought to keep her alive longer. Why were they trying so hard to do so? Surely she did not deserve life, she did not deserve to have Clarke’s love nor give her love. That is why she needs to really, truly die and leave this Earth. She must return to her heaven. She began feeling faint, unable to continue fighting them as her vision went black.  
  
The hum was there in her dreams, reminding her she was not dead in fact, but very much alive. Clarke was here with her, she must have succeeded in saving her. She searches her mind for a very, very long time for an escape and by the turn of a new millennium she opens her eyes. It was like trying to find the exit to a maze in the dark, surrounded by false doorways and misleading voices. It took many years but she came back, seeing her blonde haired Clarke leaned over her and humming away.  
  
“Clarke.” She stuttered out and nothing could stop the overwhelming feeling of love, life and happiness as she saw those blue eyes once again. She was alive, she was not in her heaven or in her before, she was with Clarke.


End file.
